


Despite Our Past

by SwordsandShields99



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:13:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26343943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordsandShields99/pseuds/SwordsandShields99
Summary: Cullen Rutherford and Amelia Trevelyan have a past that has left them both scarred. WIth lingering PTSD from their horrific pasts, neither has had a relationship... until now. Can they work through the pain of their pasts and find happiness in one another?*please read tags for warnings*
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 1





	Despite Our Past

The prisoner laid unconscious, crumpled on the stone floor. The mark on her hand casting and eerie green glow and reeked of an unknown magic, a type of magic Cullen Rutherford had never seen before. In all his years and training as a templar, this magic was different. There were no other signs the prisoner was a mage. Perhaps she really was just a maiden in the wrong place at the wrong time. He pictured her walking through the woods, innocent and unknowing, never having been touched by magic or even ever held a blade in her small hands, and being touched by some evil magic. Cullen gripped the pommel of his sword tightly at the thought. 

The Elven apostate knelt down beside her and a soft glow emanated from his hands as he worked. The mage stood slowly and turned towards Cullen. "I have prevented the mark from spreading further throughout her body, and have used a spell that will help her slowly wake now that the mark won't place anyone in immediate danger." The man stood about as far away from Cullen as he could without being overly obvious, but Cullen noticed all the same. Not that he blamed the man. If the circumstances were different, although he had left the Templar life, he couldn't say for certain what he felt his duty was now. Would he capture the man and hold him until current Templars could take him away? "Shall I retrieve Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale?"

Cullen nodded, and the elf left quickly and quietly. Cullen took a step towards the girl on the ground. She looked peaceful as she slept, no older than 25, innocent. He hoped she was. 

Suddenly, Cullen felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and it was so very difficult to draw breath. He felt the mana rush towards her as her unmarked hand called lightening and her eyes shot open. His mind went blank briefly as instinct took over, his sword already unsheathed and he stomped his foot hard on the stone to nullify her magic. He stumbled backwards, shocked. Without lyrium, the act had taken everything he had and had thrown him into his memories. The dungeon around him looked all too familiar. He felt trapped... he needed to get out, needed to escape, needed to get outside and get real air into his lungs. "Maker help me," he whispered as he stumbled back against the wall, his eyes searching for an escape, a door, anything. 

**

Her dreams haunted her, old memories feeling far to fresh and real. Suddenly, she awoke. She felt the cold stone beneath her cheek and the shackles around her wrists. _"Not again!",_ she thought frantically. Out of instinct, she pulled magic from the fade calling lightening to her hand so that she could be ready to defend herself from her attacker. She suddenly felt the sharp sting of nullification, as if her very soul was burned with fire for the briefest of moments, the air knocked from her lungs. She coughed hard, gasping for air, searching for the templar responsible. Her eyes landed on a man, stumbling back towards the wall of the dungeon. A templar she didn't recognize. Maker, he hadn't even attacked her, it had been a dream. 

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't mean to, I..." but the man clearly wasn't hearing her. His eyes were glazed and frantic. "Are you alright?" she asked. He nearly looked like he was having a heart attack. 

Suddenly, a cloaked figure walked in the room. A female with red hair poking out through her hood. The woman saw the templar, her eyes going wide before quickly removing all emotion from her face. "This way," she said gently as she tugged on the man's arm. And just like that, Amelia was alone in the dark, cold room.

**

Leliana took Cullen to a secluded room in the basement of the Chantry, a room with old books and cased wine. At least he had had the wherewithal to straighten up when Leliana had entered the dungeon, but he couldn't seem to control his breathing enough to mask his distress. He had been gasping and choking for air since the prisoner had woke. At this point, he was either in the circle tower and Leliana was there to find him with the Hero, or he needed to pull himself together and fast. "Sit," Leliana demanded as she left the room. 

Cullen took deep breaths, grounding himself using techniques he had picked up along the way. He closed his eyes and recounted the exact meal he had for dinner the past three nights. Then the exact meal for each breakfast. Then the exact location. All of the meals he had eaten in Haven. Haven! He was at Haven, years after the circles. He took a few more breaths. Damn it all, he was falling apart. He had left the prisoner alone! This was effecting his duties, his abilities. He should be taking it! He needs it, damn it. He should have accepted that Lyrium was apart of him now. What made him think that he could fight against something that no other soul had managed to fight against? How many templars died from Lyrium madness before him? All. He would be no different. But at least in the meantime he could be useful. He needs it.

He stood quickly to go for the door, but before he took another step a stabbing pain shot through his abdomen and he doubled over. When he doubled over, his head felt as though it was split in two. The sudden intense headache gave him such nausea that he threw up in his mouth, only to swallow it back down. The pain in his abdomen and chest remained, and he stayed doubled over trying to breathe through it. His hands shook violently and sweat dripped down his brow. This was going to kill him. He was such a fool. 

"My friend," he heard a familiar voice say. Cassandra entered the room and gently pushed him back into the chair. She checked his pulse and made a disapproving grunt. "How long have you felt ill?"

"Just a few moments," he answered weakly. 

"It's already this bad?" 

He nodded. "The prisoner is a mage, I nullified her magic," he panted. 

"I see," Cassandra said darkly. "You need to calm down, Commander. Your heart," she began, but he interrupted her.

"This was a mistake. It is affecting my duties. I should," he tried to stand but his joints groaned in protest.

"No. No, this is still manageable." She saw he was about to protest but she continued. "You asked for my help, and I agreed to give it. I won't see your work undone. How many days since you've taken Lyrium, Commander?"

He looked down. The answer wasn't what she was anticipating. "About 14 days." The answer should have been at least 35. It had been over a month since he had joined her cause. But he was weak. He expected to hear her chastise him, or a look of disapproval. He received none from her however. She merely nodded.

"Ok, that's good Commander, good. 14 days is a long time, I know. Don't ruin that streak. Stay here," she instructed as she quietly slipped out. 

She was a good person. He didn't deserve such kindness from her. A moment later she was back. She gave him a glass of water and an ice cold cloth for his forehead. She gave him a strange piece of food. "It has healing properties as well as pain relieving properties. Eat that now, and I'll make sure to get more for later." 

"Thank you," he said weakly.

Leliana stepped through the door. "I gave the prisoner a sleeping drought and asked Solas to look after her. We will wake her and question her in the morning."

Cassandra nodded, "A good plan."

Leliana nodded and left. He was thankful for her discretion. Leliana had seen him at his worst, and having her witness this too was a bit much for him. 

Cassandra knelt down to check his pulse. He silently wished he had chosen the same path as her. A Seeker of Truth. Templar ablilities without Lyrium. Seeking out truth and justice and led by faith. When he was a boy, he was more interested in justice and protecting people, more interested in swords rather than books or tomes. Two sides of the same coin, so similar and yet so different. He sighed as he pressed the ice cold cloth to his forehead. 

"Your heart rate has calmed, although you're still very pale. It is dark out, perhaps you'd be more comfortable in your tent or on a cot?"

He nodded. He groaned as he attempted to stand and she helped him as best she could. Every joint in his body ached and he ground his teeth from it. He limped onward. 

She spoke softly as they walked up the stairs and out the front doors of the church. "Your symptoms are what we anticipated. Nasuea, pain, headaches, chills. What seems to be the worst of it?"

He took a stabilizing breath, "All of it." 

She nodded. "A bad day." They reached his tent and she lifted his arm off her shoulder. "You've served faithfully, Cullen. I'll pray to the Maker for your swift recovery and a reprieve from your symptoms." 

He was truly touched by the gesture. "Thank you, Seeker Pentaghast. Truly." 

He turned around towards his tent. "Cullen," she said softly, yet firm, causing him to freeze to the spot. "You have some in your tent, don't you?" He swallowed hard, but didn't turn to face her. "Perhaps I should hold onto it for you? To make it easier?" Again, there was no judgement in her voice. None at all. Just a willingness to help. "I won't get rid of it, just in case we need to give it to you for your safety. But it might help with the temptation of it, if I hold onto it for you."

He was still for a moment, thinking it over. He didn't want to give it to her, no matter how right she was. He wanted it in his tent, by his cot, close by. He thought about going to lie down, just taking a small dose, just to ease the pain. He shuddered, and nodded his consent. She was in and out of his tent in a flash. A Templar's lyrium box an easy thing to spot. "Is there any more?" she asked. He remained silent, unable to lie, as much as he wanted to. She sighed now, sounding a bit deflated. "Commander?" He still remained silent. He needed it, damn it. She re-entered his tent, and he could hear the contents of his chest being rummaged through. He imagined the small amount he kept stashed under his bed, the small amount in his chest, and the smallest one tied into the fabric of his tent by the side pole. His heart rate and breathing increased as he thought about her finding them, taking them. He felt a silent rage he knew she didn't deserve bubble up in his chest. Perhaps she wouldn't find the one tied up in the fabric of the tent. 

She came out a moment later with only two of them, and he felt a twinge of guilt and relief all at once. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "It will be alright, my friend. I'll check on you in a few hours?" It was already so late. But he didn't protest and he entered his tent, collapsing on the cot instantly. He stared at the spot he knew the lyrium remained. He fought the urge to get it. "Not now," he said to himself. He could still fight it, his headache was lessening and now that he was laying down his joints didn't ache so fiercely. Now that it was the only remaining lyrium in his tent, he needed to save it. Just in case.  
  


When she came back a few hours later, it must have been close to 2 in the morning. He still laid there, staring up at the roof of his tent. "I was hoping you had been able to sleep," she said quietly, "but I brought his just in case." She handed him a tea, a sleeping drought no doubt. "Drink," she ordered, and he did. "Good night, Commander," she said as she left the tent. He had no energy or will left to return the sentiment. 

**

Amelia felt so sluggish, she could barely keep her eyes open. Whatever they had given her had knocked her out cold. She knew they were yelling at her, trying to ask her something, but she couldn't focus.

"Tell us everything," she heard a woman say to her. "Why were you there? What is the mark on your hand? Are you responsible?"

"Give her a moment to wake," another woman said.

"We don't have time."

Amelia suddenly felt ice cold water completely drench her and she gasped in air and immediately began shivering. She felt a hard smack across her face.

Her eyes shot wide open and she saw two women in front of her, staring at her with hate filled eyes. "Where... am I?" she choked. 

"Answer the questions!" the woman from yesterday, still cloaked said, her voice filled with a quiet danger.

"Who are you? And why were you at the conclave?" This woman was different. Her voice was loud and filled with rage. If Amelia could choose between the two, she'd choose this one. Quiet danger was always the worst. Loud punches she could take.

"My name is Amelia, I was at the conclave as a representative of the circle. Please, where am I?" she asked, terror seeping through her voice.

The quiet woman sprang on her, grabbing her hair and pulling it back hard. "What happened? What is this mark?" 

"I don't know!" Amelia said, trying to keep her voice clear to not show her fear. 

She heard the door open, and watched the Templar walk through it. He closed the door quietly, and leaned against it, watching her.

Suddenly, the woman pulled out a knife and placed it on her shoulder. "I don't believe you," the woman said in a cold, dark voice. "What happened at the Conclave? What did you do?"

"I don't know!" Amelia cried out. "I don't remember what happened."

The woman's knife began to slice across her skin, and she screamed out. "Try again," the woman said.

**

Cullen stood outside the dungeon door and took a deep breath. He couldn't allow his memories to interfere with his work. He took another breath and entered, closing the door behind him. Leliana and Cassandra were already interrogating the prisoner. 

Leliana cut into the woman's shoulder, "Try again." 

"I don't know, I swear!" the mage breathed. "Please, I don't know!" 

Cassandra punched the woman in the jaw, hard. 

There would have been a time when Cullen would have never believed this woman. A mage can't be trusted. He would have encouraged Leliana's knife, although he wouldn't have felt comfortable cutting a woman himself. But something stirred in him now. The Inquisition was a second chance. He could be someone different here. What if this woman was telling the truth? What if she didn't know? He had sat by in the circle and watched, but here and now, in his second chance... he wasn't going to.

"Enough," he said, his voice surprisingly strong and clear as he stepped up to the mage. 

"We need to know what she knows," Leliana said, her voice measured.

"And if she's telling the truth? Then what? You hurt her for no reason, with no evidence? We need facts. We need more information before condemning her."

Leliana looked at him with shock. It was rare to see expressions on her normally expressionless face. 

"Commander, she is the only survivor. And the mark,"

"The only survivor?" the prisoner gasped. "That can't be true. No. There's no way. That's not possible.

Leliana arched an eyebrow. Perhaps this prisoner really was telling the truth. 

"What little evidence there is points to her, Commander. We must be cautious."

"I agree. Cation is necessary. Hence why she is chained and considered our prisoner.

The Elven apostate suddenly entered the room. "Pardon the intrusion, but it is the rift." 

Leliana forced the woman to drink something, and she quickly fell to the ground. Another sleeping drought.

Once outside, the saw that the breach was expanding. 

"We're getting reports that demons are flooding out of rifts in the area. If the breach continues to expand, we will quickly be overrun and without hope," Leliana told them. 

"I can get what little troops we have mobilized. We can station teams near the breach to fight the demons and protect civilians. It will be up to the two of you to get a plan. We can't fight forever." 

Leliana nodded and headed back into the chantry. "Will you be alright?" Cassandra asked discreetly. 

Cullen nodded, "Yes." 

He quickly ran out to the soldiers encampment and started barking out orders. He had them mobilized and ready to march within 20 minutes. He felt more himself than he had in ages. 


End file.
